


Together

by vivaforever597



Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra
Genre: F/M, Plot What Plot, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-12
Updated: 2013-04-12
Packaged: 2017-12-08 05:56:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/757862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vivaforever597/pseuds/vivaforever597
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Originally, this was going to be a lime based on fanart I saw of the Krew with glasses because let's be honest, Asami and Bolin would only be hotter than they already are with glasses. But then it kind of got away from me and just turned into smut.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Together

Asami reached over, an almost wicked smile on her face, and removed Bolin's glasses.

He returned the smile and ran one hand through her hair while resting the other at the base of her neck. "Even without those, I can see how beautiful you are," he murmured.

Asami chuckled silkily. "I don't think I need mine to see you, either," she said softly. Moving carefully to avoid dislodging Bolin's hands from her body, she took her own glasses off and laid them beside his on the dresser. She stared at him through her now slightly blurred vision. "I guess what I can't see of you I'll have to feel," she crooned, and she stepped even nearer to him and pressed her hand against his back.

Bolin smiled as he pressed his forehead to hers, then slid his head down to meet her lips with his. She snuggled into him, and as he returned the embrace, she casually, gently, slipped her hands under his shirt to press her hands against his skin. At first, he made nothing much of it; Asami had always been one for physical contact.

But something was different. Her movements were as graceful as always, but more deliberate somehow. She caught the hem of his shirt on each wrist and slowly moved her hands toward his shoulders, dragging the shirt with them. In an instant, he understood what she wanted. What he wanted, too. He drew his hands away from her to raise his arms almost straight, allowing her to completely tug his shirt off of his torso. She let it fall to the floor in a small heap beside them.

"So, what are you planning to do now?" Bolin asked mock-tauntingly, grinning as he lowered his arms again.

Asami's eyes blazed — not with anger, as he'd seen when she'd confronted her father, but with an alloy of affection and desire. "I'm going to do this," she replied, then drew her arms around him and kissed him again, somehow both relaxed and urgent.

Bolin drew in a deep breath, savoring it as he lingered against Asami. "Oh. Yeah. That was nice," he murmured when she pulled away to take a breath of her own. Asami chuckled quietly, her voice deep. He grasped the bottom of her shirt and began to lift it. "Is this what you wanted next?" he asked teasingly. She nodded, her "yes" followed quickly by a moan of pleasure.

He mirrored her movements from the moment previous, slipping her shirt from over her shoulders. But now, as he did so, Asami moved her hands lower to grasp and undo the buckle of his pants. In a matter of what must have been seconds but felt like delicious minutes, they found themselves lying atop Asami's bed, laughing, their limbs entangled, in nothing but their underthings. Bolin reached up to hold Asami's sides firmly in his hands. She tilted her head and smiled at him. "Hi," she whispered, as if she'd just noticed him.

Bolin smiled back. "Hi, sweetie."

Asami giggled again and pecked his cheek. Then, with only the briefest of pauses, she reached for a spot on her upper back and pulled at the wrap encircling her torso. "I might need some help," she said huskily, then ruined the effect by winking. Bolin leaned around her head to see the edges of the wrap, then placed his hand over hers and gently guided her fingers to the seam. "Thanks," she said quietly as she tugged on the fabric, letting it fall to the bed beneath her. She raised herself by an inch to pull it further, tugging it along under her chest. "These really aren't easy to take off when you're lying down," she observed, and she bent at the waist to push herself up almost straight.

Bolin watched the rhythmic movements of her arms and wrists as she released herself from the wrap. He supposed he could be expected to stare at her breasts as she revealed them bit by bit, or else the look on her face, both bemused and determined. But he found the motion of her limbs so engrossing that he was more startled than aroused when she finished, using both hands to bunch the wrap up, then tossing it to the floor.

She loomed over him, not intimidating thanks to her smile, both sultry and amused. Bolin's eyes grew wide. "Well?" she said. "It's your turn."

"Oh," he said. "You mean ..."

"Isn't that what you were going to do?"

"Well — yeah." He blushed prettily. "I'm just not used to you watching me ..." He gestured to his shorts.

"You watched me," Asami pointed out.

"That's true," he admitted.

"I can turn around if you'd like."

"No! I'll do it."

She smiled at him as he loosened the waistband, then lowered her gaze to the suspiciously hard-looking mass beneath his shorts. "Well, you look happy I'm here," she teased.

His blush deepened, making her laugh. She turned from her stomach onto her side to face him more easily. "Even you can't really be that awkward," she murmured. He took his hands from the waistband and began to protest, but broke off when she ran a hand over his chest, brushing a nipple with a perfectly manicured nail as she did so. He shuddered with pleasure and excitement. "Oh, you liked that?" she said, returning to her husky voice. He nodded wordlessly. She pressed her face almost against his ear. "Maybe I'd like it too," she told him in a stage whisper.

She grabbed one of his hands and moved it near her breast, then was pleased when he reached the rest of the way on his own. "Like this?" he asked as he lightly stroked her nipple, tickling as he did so.

Asami closed her eyes in rapture. "Yes," she breathed. "Just like that."

She was unpleasantly surprised when he abruptly drew away. "What is it?" she asked as she reopened her eyes to see him squirming uncomfortably.

"Asami," he whimpered, "I don't think I can hold out much longer."

She sighed, more from amusement than annoyance. "All right, Bolin. We'll get to it." She shifted into a kneeling position to slip her underwear off. Next to her, Bolin dug his heels in to raise his buttocks off the bed enough to wiggle out of his own. When both pairs had joined the rest of their clothing on the floor, Asami turned over, neatly positioning her stomach over Bolin's — even tighter than hers, she noticed — her legs spread as if to straddle him.

She lowered herself against him, then grasped his erection to help him guide it into her. He pressed into her, felt her body enclose his shaft as he grasped her buttocks, as lightly as he could. She let her head fall onto his shoulder, enjoying the warmth of his body. He slowly pulled out — pushed back in — repeated it only twice more before he felt his muscles begin their rhythm, seizing and relazing, and liquid eject from his body. Yet he sensed no change in Asami's state. "Did you ... you didn't ..." he murmured dazedly as he pulled out for the final time.

"No," she said, a bit sadly. She allowed herself to fall elegantly onto his leg, inadvertently positioning herself such that she felt his erection turning flaccid against her thigh.

Bolin pressed his hand between them and slipped it between her legs. Asami smiled as she shifted to the side and spread her legs again so as to permit him easier access. He extended two fingers, gently inserting them where his penis had been only a moment before. She laid her hand over his, gently manipulating his knuckles to move his fingers within her.

He stopped moving, unsure of what he was supposed to do. "Just ... in and out?" he asked.

She nodded a confirmation. "Around a little." She heaved a sigh of pleasure as he moved his hand in the pattern instructed, and after a few more thrusts of his fingers, he felt her muscles tighten and loosen in much the way that his own had, and liquid covered his fingers. He quickly drew them out, hovering his hand over the edge of the bed while he waited for her to finish.

Once she ceased the heavy breathing that had accompanied her orgasm and smiled at him, he returned the smile bashfully and raised his hand. "Do you have something to ... ?"

She laughed: joyfully, not cruelly. "To clean off?" She plucked a handkerchief from the nightstand and handed it to him.

"Thank you," he murmured as he dried his fingers. "That was — nice, wasn't it?" he said.

She chuckled yet again. "I don't think I've ever heard it called 'nice' before." She laid her head in the middle of his chest, turning so she could see his face. "But it was."

Bolin stared at her, wondering to himself how he'd been lucky enough to end up with her. "Yeah," he whispered. He shifter to rest his head beside his shoulder, comfortable though his legs nearly hung off the bed (he was thankful it was as large as it was).

And as both drifted to sleep, they said no more, instead watching each other, and thinking how they looked forward to coming together again.


End file.
